Banana Bus Love
by heidipoo
Summary: Wow, even more oneshots and drabbles with these dudes who play video games together. Send requests if you want.
1. Backrub

**Author's Note: Hey guys, so I started another one of these oneshot stories just because the other one finally has fifty chapters. I'm going to be posting all BBS ships here, so like prompts, requests, oneshots, etc... Feel free to send me stuff, and if you're not already, be sure to follow me on tumblr at heidipoo-xox. I tend to post things there first. Alright, enough of the rambling, I hope ye enjoy.**

Backrub

* * *

"Mm, rub my back?" Brock's voice was muffled in the dark room as he adjusted his position against Brian. The two were in bed, Brock being the little spoon as he was most nights, with Brian's arms wrapped around him tightly just the way he liked. He was comfortable, he was very deeply in love.

"Sure baby," The Irishman answered as he too moved to get comfy. Their legs were intertwined, and their bodies were pressed together as warmth radiated between them. This was how they slept the majority of the time. "Like that?" Brian's hands gently started to massage small circles on the older man's skin. He was sure to use varying amounts of pressure and move to a few different spots.

Brock sighed, "Yeah, that feels great…" He trailed off, voice a little breathy from being so relaxed.

"Anything for my man." Brian let out with a chuckle.

The older man laughed, "Don't say that, you sound absolutely ridiculous." He closed his eyes and continued reveling in the feeling of his boyfriend rubbing him; when suddenly, he felt a poke on the small of his back. Brock opened one of his eyes, squinting slightly, "Are you really getting turned on by giving me a massage?" He couldn't help but to turn over and look at the other man.

Brian shrugged, "What? I can't help it. Take it as a compliment." He joked, grinning the whole time.

Brock's eyes trailed lower, and then back up to meet the Irishman's gaze. "Want me to take care of that for you?"

"Only if you want to." Brian replied.

Brock nodded happily, "Anything for my man."

Brian rolled his eyes, "Now who sounds ridiculous?"

"Oh shut up." The older man retorted, before his hands trailed lower and lower, sending his boyfriend into the bliss.


	2. Scaredy Cat

**Author's Note: This was a request that I got on tumblr and it was so much fun to write. I hope you guys like reading it as much as I liked writing it. I'm trying to write more, but it is difficult because I do work a full time job as a preschool teacher, so I post when I can. If you have any requests, make sure to send them to me and follow me on tumblr at heidipoo-xox.**

Scaredy Cat

* * *

"Brock, Brock wake up." Brian shook his boyfriend a little harsher than usual. It was nearly two in the morning and Brian was sure he heard a noise coming from the kitchen in the house they shared. "Brock!" He hissed.

The older man rolled over with an annoyed sigh. "What?" He asked groggily, not bothering to open his eyes.

"There's something in the kitchen." Brian insisted.

"So go see what it is." Brock replied.

"No!" Brian almost whined. "You go."

At this, Brock had to sit up. He turned his head and looked at his boyfriend almost incredulously. "You're not serious, are you?" He questioned, but he could tell by the Irishman's frightened expression that he certainly was. "Brian, I don't even hear anything, you're just being paranoid. Go back to bed." He tired to comfort him and get him to lay back down, but he knew it was going to be to no avail. Once Brian got something stuck in his head, it wouldn't leave until he had confirmation of if he was right or wrong.

"Can you just go check?" Brian asked. "Please Brocky?"

The older man sighed, "Okay fine." He threw the covers off him and climbed out of the bed. "I'll be right back."

"Take a weapon!"

"Seriously!?"

Brian shrugged, "I just want you to be safe."

"I'll be fine." Brock said before heading downstairs to the kitchen. And just as he had suspected there was absolutely nothing in the kitchen, or anywhere else in the house for that matter. It was completely empty, as it should be. So with that, he made his way back upstairs to his boyfriend. "Well, I'm alive. And there's nothing in the kitchen so you can go back to sleep." He got back into bed and pulled Brian into his embrace, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Thank you, my brave Brocky." He smiled.

"Anytime." Brock said before closing his eyes and drifting back off to sleep.


	3. Timing is Everything

**a/n: Another Terrornuckel thing, enjoy!  
**

Timing is Everything

* * *

 _Everything okay? You got kinda quiet near the end…_ Brian thumbed the text quickly just before shutting his PC off. This was nothing new, this was a usual occurrence, something that he noticed that was happening a lot more as of late. He hated it, but his heart was in the right place. Just then, his phone rang, buzzing and chiming furiously in his hand. _Brock._ He answered it almost immediately. "Hey Br…" He could barely get his name off his lips before Brock interrupted him.

"You know why I get quiet. I don't know why you always text me… You do this." The older man got out, his voice wavering ever so slightly. He was lucky that for the moment he was home alone; he was angry and hurt.

Brian felt guilty, "I just like to make sure you're okay…" He trailed off, brows furrowing in confusion. What did he do that was so bad? Why had his best friend been so mad at him lately? All they did was play games together, text each other every now and again… Why was that so horrible? The Irishman couldn't wrap his head around it.

"Well I'm not okay. Happy?" Brock retorted quickly. "You have to stop this, and this is the last time I'm going to tell you." He sounded tired, sad and in that moment Brian's heart was breaking for the umpteenth time since he'd became involved with Brock and their crazy relationship that was never ever clearly defined.

"Stop what, exactly? Being your friend? Because I could never do that."

The older man sighed, "The flirting, Brian. The nicknames, the affection… All of it has to stop, we're _friends_ and friends don't do that." It was true, Brian had been known to go a little overboard at times with the jokes, the innuendos, the witty banter… But it was only because he had feelings for Brock, feelings that he knew would never go away. So time and time again, he ended up having to hide his heart.

He was upset now, "Friends that love each other do."

"Brian…"

This was a conversation the two had all too often, and it was something that neither of them wanted to hear. In a perfect world, they'd be together, but they messed up because timing is everything. "Don't you ever want to know what could have been?" The Irishman inquired sadly. It was something he thought about a lot.

Brock sighed on the other end of the phone, "It's too late… If you would have asked me years ago I would have said yes. I love you Brian, you know I do, but I'm married now… I have a family. And you have a girlfriend." It was the truth that came out every time they talked like this, and it hurt both of them so much. "We never got the timing right." Brock concluded.

"I'm sorry." Brian tried to swallow the ever growing lump in his throat. He didn't know why he always did this to himself. "I'll um, I'll be a better friend." He nodded, mostly to himself.

"I know it hurts," The older man replied. "But it's just what has to be. Thank you for understanding." He could tell he made Brian upset and he felt awful for it; but it was true, it would be so much hassle to pursue a relationship with Brian - they were two different people, at two different places in their lives, and Brock was happy with his family. "I'll talk to you later?" He knew he needed to give Brian time to calm down.

"Yeah." The Irishman agreed. "Later…" He was about to end the phone call when another thought crossed his busy mind. "Hey Brock?" He hated this, he hated this with every fiber in his being. In another world maybe they would have ended up together, but he figured he would take being just friends rather than not having Brock in his life at all.

"Hm?"

"I love you." He was sure this was probably the last time he would get to tell the older man considering it was taboo between them. It felt melancholic.

Brock sighed once more, "I love you too." He got out before hanging up the phone.


	4. Stripper Brian

**Author's Note: I've had this idea for a really really long time and I just wanted to play in it so I hope you guys like it. I definitely like the idea of this AU being a full story, but for right now, this is all I can do, haha. Please leave a review and until next time, be safe! Love you guys!**

Stripper Brian

* * *

The flashing lights blinded Brock as he took in his surroundings; he'd never actually been inside a strip club before, this was the first time. The music was loud, bass bumping in his ears, and there was a certain aura about the place – sultry, exotic… However, it was also luxurious to a point. He wasn't sure what to think. _It's just a bachelor party,_ he had to remind himself, _you don't have to stay long._ His dark eyes scanned the smoky room for his friends, and he soon found them sitting in chairs by the main stage. There were different girls, guys too, all working hard for their money.

"Hey!" The groom to be yelled, "Glad you made it." He continued as Brock made his way over to him. They had been friends in high school, and Brock only planned on making an appearance. "Come sit down." He said as he patted a chair beside him.

Brock merely obliged, however, not really paying attention to the girl currently on stage. This had never been his thing, especially not with a wife at home. But he sat there, he had a drink and he had some conversation with his buddies from high school. It was odd, indeed, but he wanted to be a good friend. A few girls had danced, collecting their dollar bills, and there was a short break before the DJ spoke into the microphone.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, you know what time it is… You know him, you love him, and he is ready to see a pot of gold at the end of his pole…" The DJ paused to laugh. "Taking the stage now with his luck of the Irish, Clover!" The music began, a slow beat filling the air, and the lights dimmed as a pale man walked out in ripped up leggings, high heeled boots, and a crop top long enough just so the fuzz on his upper pelvis barely peeked out. He glittered in the neon lights, and his hair was piled messily atop his head.

Brock looked over and saw his friends turn away and start talking to each other; obviously they weren't interested in a male stripper… But Brock was absolutely mesmerized by the way Clover was moving. It was graceful, intricate, and his body snapped in time to the rhythm of the music. He wrapped around the pole so acutely, Brock couldn't look away. The beat was loud, but he could hear Clover's boots clicking on the stage; he was so in tuned to everything he was doing. And then, slowly his crop top came off, and Brock had to make sure he remembered how to close his mouth.

His body was beautiful, pale, slightly defined and glistening in the glow of the club. Brock couldn't get to his dollar bills fast enough. He held one out for Clover, cheeks red and ears hot, while he waited for the younger man to grab it. He crawled on the floor of the stage toward Brock, slowly, sensually, and took the money in his mouth with a wink, before grinding the floor. It was then, Brock concluded that he could watch Clover dance for hours. There was a certain art to it.

The way his limbs moved made Brock's imagination run wild, immediately, he had to go to the bathroom. He stood up fairly quick, and made his way there promptly. When he looked in the mirror, he was shocked at how flushed his face was. Turning on the sink, he exhaled and splashed some cool water on his hot skin. The feeling sort of grounded him there in the club, music still beating in his head, Clover's beautiful green eyes still in his memory. Never ever in his life did he think he would feel this way about an exotic dancer, and yet, here he was. To say the least, it was strange.

When Brock felt that he was ready to go back out into the main room of the club, he took a paper towel and dried his hands. However, nothing prepared him for what was waiting for him outside the bathroom door. "Enjoy the show?" A smooth, Irish lilt took him by surprise, and he nearly had a heart attack when he saw Clover leaning up against the wall by the bathroom. He looked even more handsome up close and in better lighting. There was no way this was real right now.

A nod, "I did." Brock replied, voice low, almost as if he was embarrassed by the fact.

"Can I interest you in a private dance?"

Almost immediately, blood rushed to the older man's face. God, did he want to say yes. But his high school buddies came to mind, as did his wife, and his wedding ring weighed a million pounds in that moment. Clover was so smooth, so charismatic and sensual… And Brock was awkward and shy; the two were complete opposites. What the hell was he doing here?

"Maybe next time." He answered shortly, without thinking.

Clover's eyebrows shot up on his forehead, "So that means I'll see you again?" _Fuck,_ Brock thought, _what the hell did I just do_? There was no way in hell he was coming back here again, especially not alone and for his own personal, selfish reasons… But, he still said yes, and his heart was thrumming wildly in his chest because of it.

The drive home was awful. Brock couldn't get Clover out of his brain… He wondered what his real name was, if he had hobbies, what he did in his free time, if he had another job or was going to school. There was so much buzzing in his head. And then he wondered too, why did the Irishman follow him to the bathroom? Was it merely coincidence, or did he actually want to talk to Brock? Which brought on another question. Was he interested in Brock, or did he just want another regular client? So much to think about, the older man couldn't focus, but finally, after what seemed like forever, he made it home feeling guiltier than ever.

Some time passed, Brock went about his normal routine… But he only made it about a week before he found himself going back to that damn club. He felt like a drug addict if he were being honest with himself. He was addicted to Clover in every single way imaginable. Because during that week he was away, he couldn't get the younger man out of his head. His song choice, his dance movies, his heals… They were all engraved in his brain. And those eyes, oh those eyes; Brock felt them in his soul.

It was late when he left his house, the only proper time to go to the club. The wedding ring on his finger felt like it was burning him, so he quickly took it off and shoved it in the pocket of his jeans as he mustered the courage to actually get out of his car. Brock sighed, this was a lot harder than he thought it would be. When he did finally manage to step out of the vehicle, a wave of an unknown feeling washed over him. Desire… But also guilt. A hunger lingered in his gut; he was a mesh of emotions.

The familiar view of the club came into sight and he hoped Clover would be working tonight. So many things crossed Brock's mind. What if he got caught? Would this be considered cheating? It could be so wrong, but to the older man, this was all he wanted right now. He needed to see Clover. The music clogged his ears as he walked into the main room, and the lights flickered and flashed before him. Clover was on the main stage in nothing but shorts and heals; Brock knew right then and there he was getting his private dance tonight.

His legs carried him to the stage so he could watch the remainder of Clover's dance, and he readied his dollar bills. The Irishman twirled around the pole gracefully, and gave a pretty smile when he caught Brock's eye. He'd been expecting him. At that moment, Brock held a few dollars out for him. Clover grinned wickedly and bent down in front of the older man so that he could stuff the money in the pocket of his shorts. This night was already too much for Brock to handle. How was he ever going to get through a private dance? The music died down, and Clover picked up the rest of his money before coming off the stage. Immediately, he found Brock.

"You came." Alcohol was strong on his breath, and it intoxicated the older man.

"For you." Brock answered, voice husky, their eyes meeting one another. There was a connection and it was strong. "How much is a private dance?" He inquired.

"It's 60 bucks." Clover replied without missing a beat.

"Done."

Brock simply didn't know who he was at the moment. What had he turned into? Was he so blinded with lust that he was willing to do this to his wife? He figured she didn't have to know if he could keep it to himself. There was just something about Clover, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but they were definitely into each other. For a brief second, Brock wondered if Clover was in a relationship and if his significant other was okay with him dancing. But that thought immediately washed away when he felt the Irishman grab his hand and pull him through the small crowd of people. It was slick and warm and he never wanted to let it go.

He led them to a small room in the back, one with a curtain so that there was privacy; this must have been where they did the private dances. There was nothing in the room but a couch, and that was where Clover told Brock to sit. "I'll be just a minute." The younger man said. "Go ahead and get comfy."

He obliged nervously, sitting on the piece of furniture completely a mess. Maybe he should have had a drink. However, all those thoughts vanished when Clover came back wearing a new outfit. The tank top barely covered his torso, and his shorts were so tight Brock thought they would rip off in just a second… And the boots; the boots were black, mid thigh, and the older man could feel his face heating up as the music began. It was much quieter, since they were in the back, that's when Clover approached him.

He placed himself in between Brock's open legs and began swaying his body to the beat. His fingers brushed Brock wherever they could, and he found himself falling in love with his broad shoulders and soft arms. He grinded into him, making intense eye contact. "What's your name?" Clover questioned/

The older man couldn't think, the only thing he could focus on was the beautiful man dancing in front of him. "Brock," He finally got out, voice a lot darker than he intended it to be.

Brian smirked, "I'm glad you came back, Brock." The way his name rolled off his Irish tongue made Brock dizzy and weak in the knees. He wanted to hear Clover say it over and over and over again. He was absolutely mesmerized and in his own world, but the dancer was able to keep his attention. "Give me your hands." Clover ordered as he held out his own. Brock studied his long fingers before placing his own into the Irishman's. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next. Clover took them and placed them on his stomach, slowly dragging them up until the tank top rolled up, and Brock's hands were basically on his nipples.

Immediately the older man's face reddened. "Isn't there a no touching rule?"

Clover gave a smile, "I won't tell if you won't."

"What's your name?" Brock asked, continuing to smooth his fingers over his chest.

"It's Brian."

"I could watch you dance forever, Brian." The older man admitted.

Brian laughed, "I bet you could." He turned around, dropping to the ground in front of the other man, then came up very slowly, almost torturous. "There is a certain art to it, isn't there?" But Brock couldn't respond, he was in a trance, stuck in his mind afraid of what he was doing, and yet he couldn't take his eyes off Clover. There was so much friction, so much sexual tension, and yet all he was doing was exchanging money for a dance. It was purely business, at least, that's what he kept telling himself. When the song was over, he was too embarrassed to stand up. Brian stifled a laugh, "I think my job here is done."

"Are you going back out to the stage?" Brock inquired.

Clover nodded, "You're welcome to watch me all night if that's what you want." He couldn't help but to smile. There was something about this man – a gentleness, that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "We could get a drink when I'm done." He wanted to know more about him, wanted to hear him speak. It was almost as if they were drawn to each other. Because on the night that he and Brock first met, he knew he wanted to dance for him right then and there; he knew he would appreciate more than anybody else.

"I'd like that." Brock agreed, the possibilities of spending an evening with Clover sounded amazing.

"Okay." Brian nodded, before turning to the door. "I'd better get back out there." He left the private room swiftly, leaving the older man in awe. What the fuck was he doing? Right at that moment, Brock tried to talk himself out of having a drink, but he wanted Brian so badly, he couldn't do it. He couldn't help but to think of himself as a bad person. But it felt so good to be bad, and if he got Brian out of it, he almost thought it was worth it. When he was finally able to, he made his way back out to the main stage where he continued to watch Brian dance into the late hours of the night. And when he was done, the two went out for their drink. Brock didn't know what this would turn into, but at the moment, he didn't care; he enjoyed the company of Clover. And maybe, just maybe, they'd end up sharing a future together.


	5. Cute Barista

**Author's Note: This was so much fun to write! I got this as a request on tumblr, and if you're not following me there you definitely should at heidipoo-xox. I take different requests and usually post things there first before I put them on here. Be sure to leave a review! I am a full time preschool teacher so I write when I can - reviews help! Thank you!**

Cute Barista

* * *

Brian groaned as he approached the Starbucks and saw how long the line was. At this rate, he'd be suffering from his caffeine withdrawal headache for at least 20 more minutes. Nonetheless, he took his place at the back, and pulled his phone out of his pocket trying to distract himself. The smell of coffee infiltrated his nostrils, and the hustle and bustle of customers moving in and out of the store filled his ears.

He never liked how the place was always busy, and it didn't help that it was Valentine's Day, but oh how he did like his coffee. Names kept being called, and after some time he neared the front of the line. He already knew he was getting a hazelnut latte, with almond milk and sugar; that was his regular. When finally he reached the front of the line, he looked up from his phone to order. "Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get for you today?" The barista's voice was smooth, comforting, and immediately Brian froze. He was sure he had seen this man here before, so he had probably worked here awhile, but he had never been this close to him to study the softness and curves of his face, his brown doe eyes, and easygoing smile.

"Can I get a… Uhhh," Mentally he was kicking himself as he stumbled through an order he could recite in his sleep. How embarrassing! Where was his charm when he needed it?

"Will that be all for you?" The barista, Brock (his nametag gave way) inquired and Brian nodded as he paid for his coffee. "Can I get a name for the order?"

"Brian." At least that was a question he didn't have to hesitate on.

"I'll have that latte right out for you, Brian." Brock smiled and walked away from the counter as Brian moved to the waiting area. He knew baristas were supposed to be friendly and whatnot, but he swore that this one was flirting with him. Hell, he didn't mind, he just wished he wasn't so flustered so that he could actually flirt back. Finally, after what seemed like forever, his name was finally called.

When he grabbed his latte, he was surprised to see that the foam on top was in the shape of a heart. Maybe that was something the business did for Valentine's Day? But when he saw the scrawled handwriting on the side, he knew better.

 _Happy Valentine's Day Brian, call me. (:_


	6. Happy Mother's Day

**Author's Note: Just some cute little fluff between my favorite BBS boys. Hope you all enjoy!**

Happy Mother's Day

* * *

"Happy Mother's Day!" Brian quickly moved his hands from Brock's eyes and grinned excitedly. Dinner was splayed on the table, candles lit around the room, and there were lots and lots of flowers. The Irishman had arranged for Evan to watch their daughter so that they could have a night alone with each other.

Brock was at a loss for words, "What?" He was definitely surprised. "Brian you shouldn't have…"

"Well, I wanted to do somethin' special for you, sweetheart." He admitted sheepishly, letting his hands roam to Brock's back. He was so soft, and Brian was always so in love.

The older man gave a slight chuckle, "I can't believe you think I'm the mom." Their parenting styles had always been different, but Brock had never thought of himself as the mother in the relationship.

Brian looked surprised, "Oh please, it's definitely not me!"


	7. Brian Become Human

**Author's Note: I am obsessed with Detroit Become Human and for some reason Brian reminds me so much of Connor, therefore, this fanfic was born. It's not going to be too long, just because it's honestly going to be similar to the Kara/Alice plot, and honestly, I don't want to make this an overthought AU. I just want to dabble in it to see how it is. If y'all like it, it could become a long thing, I don't know. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, let me know what you think.**

Brian Become Human

* * *

"Are you done with your breakfast, Brock?" The smooth voice pulled Brock from his trance as he sat at the kitchen table. "I can clean up now, if you'd like." Brian offered, the LED on the side of his forehead glowing a bright blue, ready to complete any task that his owner ordered. The android had been a gift, and Brock wasn't exactly sure how he felt about it yet. His friends had insisted that he was the only person they knew who didn't have one yet, but he wasn't quite certain that was true. It was definitely strange, having someone there to cater to your every need and want; hell, what was Brock supposed to do every day if he had his android doing everything for him? Technology was surely advancing quickly.

He shook his head, coming to from his thoughts. "I can do it Brian, thank you though." He was grateful, he would never not be grateful... But there were some things that were just absolutely redundant. Were there people out there that actually had their android doing every single thing for them? He didn't want to think about it.

Brian analyzed him with his hazel colored eyes, "I don't think you understand how this android thing works..." He countered, holding his hand out as if for emphasis. "It's in my program to take care of you and your needs." It had been a few weeks, and the android felt Brock's hesitation about everything, so he let him adjust. But now? Brian wasn't sure what to do. He spent most of his time watching his owner, getting to know him better and better, learning his interests. He liked Brock, if that were a possibility in his program, and he felt lucky to have someone so kind and gentle be his owner.

"I understand that." The other man countered. "But as of right now, I don't need anything taken care of." He stood up from the table, making eye contact with Brian, feeling indifferent.

Brian gave a slight nod, "Then what shall I do?"

Brock opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. This was odd, and he wasn't sure if it would get any easier. Should he just give the android to someone else? Or should he actually try to make it work? This machine... No, he didn't like that word. He liked to believe that even though Brian was made in a factory, he was still a person; or at least, that's how it seemed. He looked like a person, he talked like a person, and he simulated human emotions like a person. Or were they real? These were the thoughts that drove Brock crazy because he just didn't know. And whenever he asked the android about it, he would just rattle off some analytical response about how it was all in his program. It wasn't a real answer, and it left the man confused. "You can be my friend, can't you? Is that in your program?" He asked.

"Sure." Brian answered.

Brock sighed, "I just still don't get it."

"If it makes it easier to pretend I'm human, then just do that."

"Right." He said, brown eyes boring into the thing standing beside him. "My human friend."

"Exactly." Brian gave a charming smile. He was attractive, most androids were, and he was the first kind of his model, so there were no others that looked like him. The BR300, a companion model, an android to appease every whim, and he knew that Brock didn't get that, or at least he just didn't want to take advantage of it. The word friend echoed in Brian's head and he felt happy, if it was real happiness or simulated happiness, he couldn't tell, but nonetheless, he knew this was a good start to the relationship that he and Brock needed to develop. "So what should I do now?" He questioned.

The other man was cleaning up his mess from breakfast, "Do you have any hobbies? Go watch the TV or something."

"Okay, I can watch TV." Brian nodded and disappeared into the living room. Brock couldn't help but to give a huff, this was definitely going to take some getting used to. He finished cleaning up his mess and then headed upstairs to his office to get some work done. He tried not to let his mind linger on Brian, but it was a lost cause. That man, android, was a complete mystery, so he decided to do some research online about androids and their inner workings. He read about their components, their functions, their similarity to humans, and Brock came to the conclusion that androids could be considered another form of life. It was mindbogglingly scary. But he had Brian now, and he didn't want his gift to go to waste.

A few months passed, and being in the house with the android almost felt like having a roommate, and Brock didn't mind that. They got used to doing things together, spending time together, and Brian was able to see Brock as his friend, instead of his owner. He spent a lot more time analyzing him than he did originally. He liked the way he looked, he liked the way he laughed, and he liked the way his brown eyes lit up at something he found enjoyable. He grew fond of spending time with Brock, doing activities with him. What was this emotion he was simulating? Often times he tried to push it to the back of him, he didn't like that he wasn't able to make sense of it... And god forbid if he had errors in his software.

"Brian, do you care to run to the store for me to pick up a few things?" Brock's voice echoed down the hallway from the office. As time had gone by, he had gotten used to having the android do things for him. But he didn't look at them as orders, he looked at them as small favors, or errands. And it was always only for simple things. That, he didn't mind.

Brian, who was trying to play video games at the time, perked up at the sound of his friend's voice. He followed it upstairs and to the office where Brock was sitting. "Anything for you Brock," He smiled. "What do you need?" He inquired and listened as the man rattled off some list of random items that he needed. Brian never wrote it down, he always remembered, that was a feature of his program. "Okay," He nodded once Brock was finished. "I'll be back shortly."

"Take your time." Brock replied. "I'm in no rush, enjoy yourself while you're out."

"Okay, Brock." Brian said, before ducking out the front door and into the busy streets of LA. He knew the area, after all, or at least where things were located; again, it was all functions of his software. His brain or whatever he had up there was packed full of things for him to know. He was glad he knew the area though, he was glad he could please Brock. That thought made him smile; he was happy he had Brock, he was happy he had been a gift to him. And he was very happy that he and Brock had a friendship now, and that the man felt comfortable asking him to do things.

The android walked the busy streets, analyzing each new thing he saw. People, places, etc... When he reached the inner city, he couldn't help but to gaze in awe at all the storefronts and flashy advertisements. However, when he passed a few police officers, their conversation caught his ear. They were looking for a few different android models. "Word is they stopped listening to their owners, did what they wanted to. The media are calling them deviants." The first cop had gotten out.

"The one's that we're looking for seem harmless, but there have been cases of murder in other places."

Murder? The word took Brian by surprise. Androids were murdering their owners? He couldn't even fathom doing something like that to Brock, hell he couldn't even imagine himself hurting Brock, let alone kill him. He kept walking to the store as the cops' words floated around in his head. He wondered if this would somehow end up affecting he and Brock. In the end, he tried not to think about it, and continued on his task at hand, knowing Brock was at home waiting for him. Over the months they had spent together, Brian found himself growing strangely attached to the man who owned him, and he was utterly confused by it. Were these feelings real?

After his trip to the store, Brian made his way home, careful to keep his ears open for any more word on the deviants. Unfortunately he heard nothing, but absolutely in this case, no news was good news. "Brock?" He called out once he entered the man's home. "I'm back with your stuff." When he received no answer, he began to grow concerned. "Brock?" He sat the bags down by the door and headed up the steps. What he saw made his nonexistent heart beat out of his chest.

Brock was in a deep sleep in his office chair with his computer still on, his work still up on the screen. His head was tilted back and his mouth was wide open. Brian wasn't sure, but he could almost bet that the man was drooling. A soft snore echoed in the room and the android smiled gently. Brock overworked himself too much. Not wanting him to sleep in the chair for the night and wake up sore, Brian decided to move his owner to his bed. Carefully and quietly, he maneuvered through the room and scooped Brock into his arms, trying hard not to jostle him. He mentally patted himself on the back when he didn't wake. Slowly but surely, he made his way to his owner's room and laid the man into his bed.

His skin was so soft and warm, Brian didn't want to let go of him. And when he covered him with his blanket, Brock looked so comfortable, Brian didn't want to leave his side; so he didn't. He stayed to watch Brock sleep, the thoughts of the man going in and out of his head, as well as the thoughts of the conversation he had heard earlier. He didn't want anything to happen to Brock - he loved him... Wait? Did he love him? Brian was confused. Could he love his owner? Was it real? The word deviant floated through his head one last time before he decided to power down, and get some "rest" himself.

When morning came, Brock was a little disoriented. How in the world had he gotten to the bed? The last thing he remembered was editing, and then he was out like a light. However, the figure in the corner of the room caught his eye. Brian. The android had probably carried him to bed, and for that, Brock was eternally grateful. Brian was still powered down or recharging, or whatever he did, Brock wasn't completely sure yet. After checking his phone, the man decided he was ready to get out of bed and start his day.

The streets of LA were busy as usual, but Brock had errands to run, so after leaving Brian a note, he headed out.


	8. FaceTime

**A/N: Another little cute drabble. I love writing these so much so make sure you guys keep sending them to me! I am a full time preschool teacher and about 6 months pregnant so I write when I can, but follow me over on tumblr at heidipoo-xox, I tend to post over there first before I post here. Thanks!**

FaceTime

* * *

"You're so cute when you're half asleep like that," Brock gave a soft smile, admiring his longtime boyfriend through the camera of the phone. "But as much as I like looking at you, you really do need to get some sleep sweetheart." His voice softened and he looked over to view his friends who were waiting for his return from the phone call. These gaming tournaments were no joke.

"I know," Brian sighed as he stared dreamily at the man he loved with all his heart. "These damn time zones… I stayed up to talk to you. I miss you Brocky." He admitted sweetly.

"I miss you too." The older man replied without missing a beat. "It's no fun with you not here to mess with everyone." He added, recalling the very first time he and Brian ever were in a tournament together. But for some reason, the Irishman wasn't participating in this one.

"Oh I bet." The younger man grinned. "There's always next time."

"I love you." Brock said, blowing a kiss into the camera. "I'll be home before you know it. Now please try to get some rest."

"I love you too, Moo Moo. Goodnight." Brian blew a kiss back into the phone before rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Night Bri." The older man bid his farewell before ending the phone call and heading back over to his group of friends. He couldn't wait to be back at home with Brian.


	9. Alone Time

**Author's Note: You know me, I love family fluff so I couldn't resist writing this one. Anyway, please send me some more things to write and I will definitely get them out to you. Thanks for reading! I hope ye all enjoy.**

Alone Time

* * *

Brock's lips were so soft as Brian brushed his own against them, "Mm, I love when we get our alone time." His mouth formed a shy smile as he kissed his husband again, this time lingering a little longer than he ought to.

"Me too." Brock hummed in agreement as he shifted in the big bed, allowing the Irishman to wrap his arms around him. It was later than they usually stayed up, but the pair had missed each other dearly. Brock promised that if he wasn't too tired, they'd "fool around." Brian always made fun of him when he said it like that too.

The younger man's lips trailed lower to Brock's neck, "How about another kiss?" He murmured into the space there.

"Don't mind if I do." The older man grinned, before puckering his lips once more. However, the sound of something in the hallway stopped him in his movements. "Did you hear that?" His voice was laced with concern and it made his partner stop his movements if only for a second.

"Hear what?" Brian inquired, nearly freezing.

"Listen…" Brock insisted as they both got quiet again. Sure enough, the pitter patter of little bare feet was the only noise that occupied the otherwise quiet hallway. "I believe your daughter is up, daddy." He gave a soft smile while Brian scoffed.

"Excuse me, my daughter? She acts just like you! And what did I tell you about using that god awful word?" He shook his head playfully as their child's footsteps grew closer.

Brock laughed, "You know I like teasing you. You get all riled up." He found his thigh in the bed and squeezed it for extra measure. Then, they waited and waited until finally their bedroom door slowly crept open and a small figure appeared at the foot of the queen sized bed.

"Papa?" Her voice was thick with sleep and she rubbed her eyes, signaling that she had only recently woken up.

The thought of fooling around or being intimate with each other immediately flew out the window with their daughter in distress. She always came first, that was the rule. "What's wrong, princess?" It was Brock who answered her and Brian who pulled her up into the bed so that she was in the middle of them. For only four years old, Millie took pride in sleeping in her own bed, her "big girl bed" but before then, she often co-slept with her fathers. So being in the middle of them was somewhat one of her favorite places to be.

"Another bad dream?" The Irishman smoothed her blonde hair out of her face and kissed her forehead as she nodded.

"Are you okay sweetie?" The older man asked, making sure he didn't have to take care of any monsters under the bed or other things of that nature.

"Will you and daddy tell me a story?"

"What kind of story?" Brock asked as he pulled their little girl closer to him and snuggled closer to his husband. These were the moments he truly cherished about his life and his family.

Millie clearly had her thinking face on as she pondered on what kind of tale she wanted to hear, "Hmm… A happy one, with you and daddy?"

The older man chuckled, "You want to hear a real story, not a pretend one tonight?" He questioned as he looked at her lovingly and she nodded. "I can tell you about the first time I met daddy, would you like to hear that?" Brock went on and Brian only looked at him curiously, wondering, just wondering what he was going to say.

"Yes!" Millie got out excitedly.

However; the Irishman merely grinned, "Yeah I'd like to hear that one too." His husband was being cute, there was no doubting that. It was one of the many things he loved about him.

Brock cleared his throat and snuggled up to his daughter. "It was a long time ago, and daddy and I had only talked on the phone and on the computer because we lived far away from each other. But, we were finally going to see each other because we were going to this big place where people play lots of games." He described. "I was scared."

Millie looked confused, "Why papa?"

"Because I really liked daddy, I wanted to make him smile and laugh, I just wanted to be around him."

At this, Brian had to jump in, "But, papa didn't know that I also wanted to make him smile and laugh. So he was scared for no reason." The two made eye contact, and couldn't help but to grow fond at the memory of them seeing each other for the first time. The first time that they knew that this had to work.

"That's silly." Millie got out. "But then what happened?"

"Your daddy was very handsome when I first saw him, he still is very handsome." He looked down at his daughter who seemed to be growing sleepier by the minute, and yet she was so intrigued with the story. "We had fun together, we had dinner and played games… And I think I knew that I loved him already."

"You did?" It was Brian's voice, and not their daughter's, and Brock could feel himself blushing as his face grew hot, but he nodded. "So how does the story end?" The younger man asked sweetly once he looked down and realized that Millie had passed out in between them. She never made it very long into story time, but the couple never minded.

"With us cuddling in bed with our daughter." Brock answered in a murmur, and was then lost in Brian's lips as the Irishman pulled him close.

"I love you."

"I love you too."


	10. The Morning After

**A/N: More fluff! Enjoy!**

The Morning After

* * *

Brian's eyes were locked on the beautiful man that lay in front of him, studying him, admiring him, as his own dark eyes finally fluttered open sleepily. "Hello, you." The Irishman's voice was soft, yet hoarse in the late hours of the morning. He didn't want to startle Brock. He didn't want to break the moment, this moment, that was so special for the two of them. It had been their first time being intimate together, and Brian was more in love than he'd ever been.

"Good morning." Brock grinned tiredly, reaching out of the younger man's embrace to brush a strand of dirty blonde hair out of his way. His touch was soft, Brian couldn't help but to lean into his fingers.

"Afternoon." The Irishman corrected in a murmur. "I didn't think you were ever going to wake up. Sleep okay?" Although it wasn't their first time spending the night together, it was their first time dealing with the aftermath of making love, and Brian wanted to make sure that Brock felt comfortable and okay with everything.

The older man took a moment to stretch before answering his boyfriend's question. "I slept great." He said, before his cheeks lit up into a baby pink. "It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would have, so that's good." He was thankful that he and Brian had both enjoyed themselves the night before, but he had yet to tell the Irishman that he had never been with another man before in that way. A part of him was a little embarrassed to be so inexperienced, but he knew Brian would understand.

For a moment, the younger man was confused. "Wait, what? Brocky, was this your first time?" He was genuinely concerned. "Are you sore? Did I hurt you? If I would have known it was your first time things could have been different. Why didn't you say anything? I would have made it more special!" At this point he was rambling and Brock had to kiss him to get him to shut up. He loved this man, but sometimes he could be a real pain in the ass.

His lips were curved in a gentle smile when he pulled away, "What are you talking about? It was plenty special. And I'm fine, don't worry about it Bri." He was thoughtful and he didn't want his boyfriend doubting even a second of what they had done the previous night. He had a good time, first time or not.

The younger man's brows furrowed, "Brock, no offense but you have very low standards if you thought that was special." He hadn't meant for it to come out in a sarcastic way, but it did, and he saw Brock's face fall slightly.

"Was I really bad?"

"What?" Brian replied almost incredulously. Brock was everything he wanted and more, and he made sure he knew it. "No, sweetheart, you were amazing. I just wish... I don't know, I just wish you would have told me. I would have gotten candles, gone more slowly, I don't know." He wracked his brain for things he could have done differently, before he felt Brock take his face in his big, gentle hands. He loved the way he held him.

"Brian." The older man's voice was firm, tender. "I promise you, everything was perfect. Better than I could have ever dreamed. It was special."

The Irishman could only nod, "If you say so."

"I do." Brock replied. "Now can we please get breakfast? I'm starving over here."

Brian chuckled lightly, "Of course."


	11. Kiss Me

**Author's Note: Not sure what caused me to write this, haha, but I thought it turned out pretty cute. We've been getting lots of Terrornuckel lately and I'm so hyped about it. Anyway, I'm getting ready to have my baby, but I am going to start rewriting my story Fools! Look for it on my page. As always, I hope you enjoy!**

Kiss Me

* * *

They'd danced around it all night.

That dreaded, awkward and slow first kiss.

Their evening had been going perfectly; everything that they could have hoped for, well… Everything except for when Brian tried to make his move. He'd done every trick in the book while on his date with Brock, including the yawn and stretch while they were watching their movie. If he were being honest with himself, he wasn't paying attention to the movie in even the slightest. All his focus was on the beautiful man sitting beside him.

The way his lips were parted as he breathed, and the way his rosy cheeks shined in the light from the projector and screen was enough to drive Brian crazy. And when he laughed at something funny in the movie? Oh, it was pure music to the Irishman's ears. So he totally faked a yawn and wrapped his arms around the older man's broad shoulders. When he felt Brock snuggle into him, he nearly fainted. So far so good, right? Wrong. It had gotten him closer to the older man, but a kiss? Forget about it. Brian's tricks were to no avail.

It was as though Brock was avoiding it. His cheeks would burn crimson and he'd turn his head or hide his face. There was just something about the Irishman that made him so nervous and giddy. It felt like a million butterflies were attacking his stomach at once. He wasn't sure if he could deal.

He scolded himself once their movie was over. It was just a kiss for crying out loud! How bad could it be? But Brock knew better; a first kiss could mean everything for the relationship he wanted to pursue with Brian. What if he thought he was a bad kisser? What if he didn't like it? All these questions buzzed in his brain as he laced his fingers with his date and they exited the theatre. It felt natural being with Brian, so why was this kiss so damn hard?

"I didn't really care for the movie." The Irishman interrupted the silence between them in the bustling hallway. He gave Brock's hand a squeeze as he looked over at him. However, if he were telling the truth, he didn't remember a damn thing about the movie they just watched. All he knew was that he really wanted to kiss Brock.

He gave a cheeky smile. "I liked it."

"That's all that matters then." His words were simple and yet they meant a lot and Brock cursed himself for not being able to give Brian a big smooch right then and there. Why did he have to be so shy? He wished he had the courage to just go for it; it was obvious that the feelings were mutual. "It's kind of late, ready to head home?" He asked, pulling Brock out of his many racing thoughts. The younger man was only in town for a few days and he wanted to make sure that taking Brock out was at the top of his to do list. It was rare they got to be together in person, and since the beginning of their long distance relationship, this was the first. It felt good to finally spend some time together.

"Ready when you are." Brock answered as they continued to walk, lump of nerves bundled in his throat. His emotions were on a roller coaster, he felt like he was in high school again - inexperienced and too naive. And all over a silly kiss at that!

"After you."

"Thank you."

Brian held the door for his date, getting a smile in return. He was nothing but a gentleman, especially for his Brocky. The two settled in the car and into a comfortable silence, both thinking about their movie date and how they should have just made a damn move on one another. Regardless, the couple did have a good time.

Through the car ride home, Brock couldn't help but to count mentally all the opportunities he could have had to kiss the Irishman. There were too many, he didn't like that. Missed opportunities were missed kisses, and he liked Brian way too much for all of that. Something had got to give. That's when he felt the Irishman reach between him and grab his hand, oh he was definitely getting this kiss.

After a short drive, the two were arriving at Brock's house. The gravel in the driveway crunched underneath the tires and the older man could feel his heartbeat starting to speed up. He was running out of time. Brian got out of the car and went around to open his date's door. "I'll walk you up." He offered, holding Brock's hand once he was completely out of the vehicle. And it was silent between them, the only sounds were the night air when they reached Brock's front door. The older man was arguing with himself on whether or not to just plant one on the Irishman, when Brian started to speak again. "Brock… I had a really good time tonight-"

"Me too," Brock grinned in return, interrupting the younger man.

Brian smiled as well before continuing his sentence. His eyes wouldn't meet the other man's and Brock immediately picked up on it. What was he going to say? "Would it be alright if I kissed you?" The faintest of blushes rose on his Irish cheeks and he cursed himself for being so damned nervous. Where was his wit and charm when he needed it?

Brock felt lightheaded once he heard his words, and all he could do was let out a laugh. "Brian, I thought you'd never ask."

The younger man chuckled as he shoved his hands into his pockets and moved closer to his date. "Is that a yes?"

Brock felt himself sigh and he nodded, "Yes." Immediately, his nerves took over… It had definitely been awhile since he'd had a first kiss. He could feel his face heating up and his palms start to sweat. Brian moved closer to him, slowly, too slowly it seemed. His breath picked up, as well as his heartbeat.

As his lips neared Brock's, Brian could pick up on his anxiousness. He couldn't help but to give a half smile, the older man's nerves were cute. "It's just me, relax." It came out gently, lowly, enough to send chills down Brock's spine. And then their lips met softly, tenderly, and it was like nothing they'd ever felt before.

It was chaste, sweet, and Brock was grinning like an idiot when they separated. "Wow."

"That good huh?" The Irishman chuckled.

Brock blushed, "Just a really good way to end the night."

"Goodnight Brock." The younger man waved as he stepped away from his date's house. He couldn't contain the happiness on his face as he made his way back to the car.

"Night Bri."


	12. Nervous

**A/N: Follow me over on tumblr for more cute drabbles. Feel free to send requests! Thanks for reading!**

Nervous

* * *

Brian wrung his hands together nervously for what felt like the umpteenth time that evening. They were sweaty, he was sweaty, god, this was a mess. But, this is what he had wanted for the longest time. He tried to take a few moments and regain his composure; it was useless. His anxiety was through the roof and he wasn't sure what he was going to do to calm himself down.

Then, Brock exited the restaurant bathroom and made his way back to the table he shared with his date, first date, if they were being technical. Brian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in, and suddenly, when he met Brock's soft, dark eyes, all was well with the world. "Everything come out okay?" The Irishman blurted out awkwardly, causing Moo to raise a brow.

"Huh?"

"The bathroom-" He had put his foot in his mouth again and he was making a fool out of himself on this night with Brock. Normally he could turn on the charm, but Moo? Well Moo made him turn to jelly and not a coherent thought could run through his mind. It had always been that way for as long as he could remember, hell ever since he met the guy.

Brock's face became pink, he too, was a nervous wreck. Brian was perfect, and himself? Well he knew he was a little awkward and not very good in social situations. "Everything was fine." He chuckled lightly.

"I ordered our food." Brian replied, almost trying to forget about the awkwardness that had just ensued. For months he had wanted a date with the older man, now the timing was right and he was sure that Brock would never want to go out with him ever again. He hoped it would turn around; after all, he just wanted to spend time with his date.

"Thank you." Brock smiled politely. "I uh, really like your hair tonight." It was gelled to perfection, clean and smooth. Not that Brian's hair didn't always look good, and the older man could almost kick himself once it escaped his lips. He thought Brian was immensely attractive, and he wanted the Irishman to know it.

"I actually got it trimmed up for you - for our date." Now it was Brian's turn to give a sheepish green. This was too much.

Brock laughed gently, "You got a hair cut for me."

"I did." The younger man replied. He reached across the table for his date's hand and Brock took it without hesitation. Their skin was warm and it felt oh so good to finally touch each other after sitting in what seemed to be two seats that were too far away from one another. "I wanted to impress you, but it seems I'm making an ass of myself." He confessed, breaking the tension and letting everything out. If he couldn't be himself around the man in front of him, who could he be himself around?

"What?" Brock's brows furrowed and he gave Brian's hand a loving squeeze. "Never."

The Irishman's eyes softened, "I just wanted everything to be perfect and I'm a nervous wreck!"

"I'm nervous too!" Brock admitted quickly. "But I think we're doing okay." His smile was kind and if he were being honest with himself, there was no place he'd rather be than here with Brian. If he'd asked for a second date, Brock knew he would agree in a heartbeat.

"You think so?" Brian inquired.

"Yeah, besides it's still early, you still have plenty of time to mess it up." He joked.

At that, the younger man rolled his eyes, "You always know what to say."

"Let's just enjoy our dinner?" Moo suggested, giving Brian's hand another gentle squeeze. And the other man agreed with a nod and a smile as he planned the rest of he and Brock's night.


End file.
